


A Change of Heart

by dragon_with_a_teacup



Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, RIORDAN Rick - Works
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Minor Blitzstone, Minor Samirah/Amir, Post-Canon, Post-The Ship of the Dead (Magnus Chase)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 13:47:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29472681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragon_with_a_teacup/pseuds/dragon_with_a_teacup
Summary: In this moment, Magnus wonders what Alex will be like in a decade, two decades, a century. After all, if Alex can change so much, can reach a better place, in such a short amount of time, what will happen in a greater one?The future is uncertain, and the only thing Magnus knows with any real conviction is that he wants to be there, with Alex, to see it.Here’s a thought—you should spend forever with me, he thinks as he stares, and stares, and stares at Alex. You should marry me.
Relationships: Magnus Chase/Alex Fierro
Comments: 15
Kudos: 57





	1. A Nice Idea

It’s the day of Samirah and Amir’s wedding. Magnus has been anticipating it for what feels like forever, but he still can’t quite believe it’s happening, at last.

About time, honestly, he thinks as he walks into the mosque, Alex Fierro next to him.

Once inside, Alex looks around and scoffs under his breath. Magnus glances over and realizes Alex is eyeing the seating, where women are on one side, men on the other.

“Very binary of them,” Alex mutters.

Magnus only reaches down and squeezes his hand, and when he looks up, Alex is smiling at him. “I was gonna sit with you anyway, just so you know.”

Magnus grins back, taking a moment to unabashedly stare. For the occasion, Alex has opted for dark green corduroy trousers and a white collared shirt. Over that, he wears a black satin vest and a magenta tie, already loosened.

When Magnus had first seen the outfit, he had, somewhat wildly, thought, _Well, shit, he’s stunning_.

“Shut your mouth, Maggie, or you’ll catch flies,” was all Alex had said.

Now, Alex only waggles his eyebrows and tugs Magnus forward so they can take their seats.

— — — 

Later, Magnus is debating standing on a chair. This crowd is huge, and wild already. But he knows Samirah is somewhere among the gathered people, and he’s determined to find her.

He peers around a cluster of people’s backs, seeking the bright yellow he knows she is wearing. Oh, there. He grins at the sight of her.

Samirah is radiant, beaming from ear to ear as she receives people’s congratulations. The henna on her skin is intricate and gorgeous, even from a distance. Magnus feels his heart squeeze at the sight of one of his best friends so full of joy. He starts forward.

“Congratulations, Samirah!” he calls the moment he’s within earshot. Her eyes lock onto his, and light up as he rushes over.

“Thank you, Magnus!” She is still smiling. “Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you before the ceremony. But I’m so glad you came.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for Ragnarok. And no worries. I know you were busy getting ready beforehand. You look great, by the way.”

She ducks her head, glances down at her dress. The flowers arranged in a crown on her head bob. “Thanks,” she says as she looks back at him. “You look pretty sharp yourself.”

He shrugs, a little uncomfortable in his suit, honestly. “I clean up okay, I guess.”

“So, where’s Alex?” Samirah asks. “I caught a glimpse of him earlier, but…”

“He’s around here somewhere. He was getting us drinks.” Magnus rises up on his tiptoes to scan the crowd. “Yeah, there he is.”

Alex is dodging through the crowd, a pair of drinks in his hands. Magnus can’t help but stare at his somehow still-graceful movements, then presses his lips together, hoping he isn’t blushing as Alex reaches them and hands Magnus a glass.

“Congrats, sis,” Alex says, lifting his glass of punch in a toast. The smile he directs at Samirah is soft and affectionate.

“Thanks,” Samirah says.

“So where did Mr. al-Abbas get off to?”

She laughs at Alex’s joke, though her gaze darts around the room anyway, seeking her new husband. She and Alex continue conversing, but Magnus hangs back to simply observe.

He watches the siblings, marveling at the ease that exists between them. It hardly seems possible that they didn’t even know each other three years ago. The way they are chattering, with gesticulations and exclamations—even the occasional identical expression—one would think they had known each other all their lives.

Mostly though, Magnus watches Alex.

Not just because he’s stunning, although that is certainly a contributing factor to Magnus’ scrutiny. But Alex also seems… happy, confident. Magnus can remember a time when Alex was mostly composed of bitterness and anger at the world, but that seems a world away now.

And in this moment, Magnus wonders what Alex will be like in a decade, two decades, a century. After all, on a day made for making promises of forever, eternity is on Magnus’ mind, so of course he wonders. If Alex can change so much, can reach a better place, in such a short amount of time, what will happen in a greater one?

The future is uncertain, and the only thing Magnus knows with any real conviction is that he wants to be there, with Alex, to see it.

 _Here’s a thought—you should spend forever with me_ , he thinks as he stares, and stares, and stares at Alex. _You should marry me_.

Whoa, slow down.

He shakes himself, as if that will banish the startling thought that has just leaped into his mind seemingly of its own accord. To his annoyance, but not to his surprise, his efforts fail, and the words reverberate throughout his head.

 _Marry me. Alex, you should marry me_.

But Alex wouldn’t want that; Magnus is sure. They’ve only recently made their relationship official to their friends. And Alex has never seemed like the type of person who appreciates romantic gestures. So why would Alex agree to a probably very public, dramatic ceremony full of sentiment and flowers?

 _Maybe in a few thousand years, Alex will have a change of heart_ , a small and slightly coy voice in the back of Magnus’ head suggests.

But Magnus knows there’s no guarantee of that, and knowing that aches.

“Magnus?” Alex’s voice breaks through his pensive line of thinking. “You still with us?”

He blinks, and the world around him seems to come back into focus. “Yeah, of course.”

Alex eyes him with a typically shrewd look, but then extends his hand and twines their fingers together. The touch sends a sensation of peace through Magnus, and he sinks into the conversation.

And yet, there remains a small corner of his mind, whispering thoughts of dedication and promises and everlasting love—the very things he has just witnessed between Samirah and Amir, only now they are directed toward himself and Alex.

 _Alex, you should marry me_.

 _It’ll never happen_ , Magnus reminds himself, _but still, it’s a nice idea_.

 _I can dream_.


	2. Not Like This

Magnus’ lungs are on fire. At least, that is how they feel. His legs, too, burn—though at the same time, they feel as if they are made of jelly.

He has been running for nearly two hours now.

Two hours of his feet pounding against hard ground. Two hours of his heart pounding in his chest at a rate that would probably be dangerous for anyone other than an einherji. Two hours of his mind pounding one thought into his skull.

Get to Alex.

The child of Loki is out here somewhere, stranded in this desolate waste in the center of Muspellheim. They’d come here after Jack had received a message from his weapons network about a Valkyrie in trouble. Being the people they were, the residents of floor nineteen had taken it upon themselves to rescue her.

They’d even had a solid plan, at first, until it crashed and burned—literally. Magnus and Alex had quickly lost sight of the others, including Jack. The ground being covered in lava, treacherously hot stone, and bursts of fire didn’t help their situation. 

Now, if only Magnus hadn’t been separated from Alex also, moments after he’d watched her fall to the ground, crying out. If only Magnus hadn’t been an idiot and gotten knocked out and transported probably halfway across the entire realm before he’d come to and fought his way free of the giants.

If only they hadn’t come here. Then Alex wouldn’t be probably dying.

Magnus might be dying as well, though to be honest, he hasn’t paid attention. He’s definitely injured, and dealing with sunburns and wind burns from being exposed to these elements for so long. But he might have more extensive, and more serious, wounds than that. The fire giants who had captured him had wielded clubs and knives and other disturbing-looking weapons, and Magnus had definitely felt the bite of at least one of them connecting with him before he’d been able to flee. To add insult to injury—or perhaps just injury to injury—his shoes had melted away ages ago, the rubber unable to endure the intense heat.

However, all those facts pale in comparison to the fact that Alex is in peril.

His arms are starting to burn too, which he supposes makes sense, considering they’ve been swinging wildly for so long. He staggers to a halt, and almost falls to the ground. He catches himself just in time, then leans over, hands on his trembling knees.

One minute… He just needs one minute to breathe. Then he can save Alex.

His legs choose that instant to give out, of course, and he finds himself landing face-first on a patch of hot, sandy ground, luckily not actively burning. Rolling over, he groans.

“This sucks,” he mutters.

As he tries to move again, he finds his limbs uncooperative. He is too fatigued, too injured, and his body is shutting down.

“No,” he says. “Come on.”

Over the sound of the wind and Magnus’ own gasps, he hears something else and looks up. His muscles, despite their exhaustion, go tense at the possibility of another threat.

But then, he hears a grumbled curse in Spanish.

“Alex!”

He drags himself to his feet and moves forward again. “Alex?”

No response.

“Alex, it’s me!”

Magnus stumbles in the direction he thinks Alex’s voice originated from, clutching at his side even though that motion does nothing to ease the discomfort he’s feeling.

“Mag… Magnus?”

“Hang on, Alex!”

Ahead of him, probably a quarter mile away, stands what appears to be a pile of rocks, alone within the barren desert hellscape. Propped against it is a smear of green.

Magnus trips more than once on the way, and by the time he gets close enough to see Alex clearly, he is half-dragging himself, having twisted his ankle during one of the falls.

“My hero,” Alex says with a raised eyebrow, the most deadpan Magnus has ever heard her.

Magnus drops to the ground, again, but this time he is beside Alex, so at least there’s that.

“Hey,” he sighs. He allows himself thirty seconds before rolling over and sitting up. “How badly hurt are you?”

“Oh, probably mortally,” Alex says, shrugging. Behind her facade of indifference, though, Magnus can discern substantial fear and pain. She clutches at her leg, which is clearly broken. Blood trickles from a gash on her forehead, and her skin is covered in bruises and burns. There are probably more wounds Magnus can’t see. The way her arm wraps around her middle worries him; thoughts of internal bleeding or stab wounds chase each other through his mind.

“Gods, Alex.” Magnus’ hand shakes as it extends toward her. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to get back—”

“Damn, Magnus,” Alex interrupts, “are you seriously apologizing? You look like you’ve walked through Helheim to get here.”

She places her hand on his cheek and guides his face up so their eyes meet. “You look like shit, my dude.”

“Back at ya,” he manages. They say nothing for a moment, then grin simultaneously. In spite of the situation, they can always make each other smile.

“Can… can I help you?” he asks. He shifts across the ground so he’s next to Alex, brushing back her hair to get a better view of the cut. It’s shallow, but oozing blood steadily.

“If you’ve got some sort of magic teleportation device, yeah.” She swats his hand away and links their fingers instead. “But I’m guessing you don’t.”

“No, Alex…” He fights free and continues examining her for injuries. There are plenty, too many, and Magnus wants to throw up, or scream, or something. Alex’s breathing is labored, and slowing. Magnus can feel her heartbeat, fluttery and frantic.

“Hold on,” he insists. He clutches at her, as if that will hold her together and keep her from leaving him. He strains, begging for the healing magic to flow within him. But two hours of running in these conditions, already wounded himself, have sapped his strength. Frey’s power is out of reach.

“No, no, no,” he half-sobs. “Come on…”

“Magnus.” Alex’s voice is soft. “It’s okay. This isn’t your fault.”

“It is if I can’t save you! I should be able to save you!”

“Quiet,” Alex breathes, fingers moving to cover Magnus’ lips. “Just… sit with me.”

“I…” Tears blur Magnus’ vision. “Alex…”

“I know.” Alex rests her head on his shoulder.

He blinks hard, then opens his mouth to speak—though what he might say, he never finds out.

Because Alex speaks before he can. “I love you, Magnus Chase.”

The tears gathered in Magnus’ eyes spill over then, and he sucks in a shaking breath. “Don’t say that to me, not now,” he chokes out. “I don’t want to hear it, not like this.”

Alex sits up, though from her expression, even that motion is tasking. Her lips part as if to reply, but then—

“Hey, _señor_!”

Magnus whips his head up at the sound of that voice. “Jack?” he exclaims.

His sword hovers next to Sleipnir, the brilliant-white flying horse, who whinnies at the sight of Magnus and Alex. Relief washes over Magnus in a wave, and he nearly laughs because of it.

“I figured you could use the evac,” Jack explains, “and on my way back to the Hotel with the others, I found him.”

Magnus can’t speak, so he simply nods and forces himself onto his knees. He twists to face Alex, whose eyes are fluttering shut.

“Come on, Alex,” he breathes. Alex’s form is limp in his arms as he picks her up. “I’ve got you.”

— — — 

Hours pass before Magnus feels more like a normal, functioning immortal human again. After several of those hours spent napping, he finally manages to roll out of bed and into a change of clothes. He surveys himself in the mirror—same as ever, with only traces of his injuries remaining. At least, his physical injuries; his emotional state is still far from recovered.

Death hasn’t been so close since Niflheim, he reflects. And that was seven years ago now. He’s forgotten the terror that comes with nearly losing Alex Fierro.

He smooths down his shirt and steps out of his suite and into the hallway. Luckily, no one is there, so he reaches Alex’s door without delay. At the moment, the only person in the universe he wants to see is, hopefully, on the other side of this door.

He knocks and holds his breath, but his suspense is ended quickly when he hears Alex’s soft voice beckon him in.

“Hey,” he murmurs, stepping inside. “Where are you?”

“In the bedroom,” Alex says. Magnus hurries through the atrium to the bedroom wing, where he finds Alex still in bed.

Hazel and brown eyes light up when they land on him, and Magnus’ heart soars.

“Do I still look like shit?” Alex asks.

Magnus bites down on a grin. He pulls a chair close to the side of the bed and leans on his elbows. “Mmm…” He pretends to mull over the question. “You’ve looked better.”

She cocks an eyebrow. “Tell me about it. I’ve felt better too.”

“I’m sure. So have I.” He hesitates, then takes her hand in his. “Remind me to tell Jack I owe him one. Or two.”

Alex smirks. “I’m sure he’ll remind you himself.”

He chuckles, and then they fall silent. Magnus plays absentmindedly with Alex’s slender fingers, marveling at all the times he has done this before, but never fully appreciated the act. Alex’s hands are fascinating, callused in places and smooth in others, a life in microcosm.

He might have never been able to hold Alex’s hands again, if today had gone differently.

“What you said today…” he starts but doesn’t know how to finish.

“I meant it,” Alex says, cheeks flaming. “It wasn’t, like, some impulsive declaration for the sake of drama or anything.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest it was,” Magnus says quickly. “I only… I’m sorry I didn’t say it back.”

The corners of Alex’s lips lift. “Were you going to?”

“Y-yeah,” Magnus stammers. He will admit, if only to himself, that he’s imagined this moment before, many times, though he had never imagined it going down this way. “Of course I was.”

He holds Alex’s gaze, and the moment seems to draw out to impossible lengths. “So say it, nerd,” Alex prompts, head tilted. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”

Magnus blushes again, even though Alex’s words spur him on. “Okay,” he says, running his thumbs over her knuckles. “Alex, I love you.”

And then, Alex’s smile is all Magnus can see. Alex’s laugh is all he can hear. Alex’s lips are all he can feel, pressing against his own, pressing that smile and that laugh into him.

The kiss only lasts seconds before Alex slumps back on the pillow again. “Sorry,” she says, breathless. “I’m still—”

“I know,” he assures her. “It’s fine.”

“I had intended to say it another time,” she adds. “You know, when not literally dying in your arms. Talk about extra.” An eye roll, which tells Magnus she _is_ healing. “I always imagined saying it under better circumstances.”

“Alex, seriously, it’s okay. I’m glad you said it regardless. Maybe…” He swallows. “Maybe you could say it again someday? Under those better circumstances?”

Alex lets out a soft laugh. “I think I can make that happen.”

Magnus kisses the back of her hand, lips light across the knuckles. “Cool. But right now, you should rest. Is it all right if I stay?”

Her lips purse. “I guess.” But the twinkle in her eye tells Magnus the real answer, and he settles back into the chair, relaxing fully now.

Within minutes, Alex is asleep again, always a slower healer than Magnus. Not wanting to creepily watch her sleep, Magnus tips his head back and closes his eyes, thinking.

And once again, an idea occurs to him: a groundbreaking, universe-shifting idea.

 _I could marry you_ , he thinks. _I could spend every night and every day with you and never get bored. I’d be honored to share every second of my time and every bit of my heart with you_.

But now isn’t the time for that. They’ve only just said they love one another; leaping to marriage would be a bit… much. Besides, Magnus still doubts Alex would want a ceremony, or even a pronouncement of permanence. Alex would likely point out they’re already sharing an immortal afterlife, and how much more permanent can things get than that?

No, marriage—or even proposing it—is not for them. Especially not now, with Alex still recovering and Magnus still fatigued. Not the most romantic situation.

Even if Alex could be interested in such a thing, Magnus wouldn’t ask when they’re like this.

So he pushes away the desire to a deep nook within his heart and curls up in the chair, content with drifting off to the knowledge that Alex is asleep, safe at his side.


	3. Major Declarations

In Boston, autumn rolls in again with its usual chill and wild leaves. Magnus takes another sip of his iced chai, purchased despite the season. But the way he sees it, he’d be a fool not to enjoy this beverage, which he’d swear is a creation of the gods. Perhaps not the gods he knows personally, but still.

Blitzen’s Best isn’t busy at the moment, so Magnus finds his friends restocking and straightening. “Hey!”

“Hey kid!” Blitz calls from behind a rack of suits. “Come on in!”

At the register, Hearthstone looks up in response to the blinking light over the door and grins when he sees Magnus. “ _Did you get it?_ ” he asks.

Magnus sets down the cardboard drink carrier on the counter and nods. “Yeah,” he signs back. “What, after all these years, you still don’t trust me with this?”

Hearth lifts an eyebrow. “ _After the sencha incident, no_.” He picks up the cup labeled “matcha,” inhales the steam, takes a sip, and smiles. “ _Perfect_ ,” he signs. “ _Thanks_.”

“You’re welcome,” Magnus replies. “Blitz, are you gonna come get your pretentious hipster drink or what?”

“ _Oxymoron—‘pretentious hipster_ ,’” Hearth points out. Magnus chuckles.

“I heard that,” Blitzen says with a grin as he makes his way back to the register and picks up his nitro brew. “So what’s new, kid?”

Magnus shrugs. “Not much. This is a weird thing to say, but training for the apocalypse gets kind of boring and repetitive sometimes.”

“ _Kids these days, so desensitized to violence_ ,” Hearthstone comments.

“Shut up,” Magnus says with a laugh. “You’re only a few years older than me!”

“ _But decades older in wisdom_.”

“All right, you two,” Blitz says, shaking his head. His grin rather ruins his stern tone, though.

“So how’s the store going?”

As usual when asked this, Blitzen lights up. “Great! Sales are up from this time last year. And we’ve had a good day today. You just missed our midday rush,” he explains, before Magnus can speak. “Oh, and remind me to show you our new line of trousers. We only started selling them last week, and we’re already down to three left.”

“That’s wicked,” Magnus says, glancing between them. Blitz is beaming around at the store, and Hearth is wearing the smile he reserves only for when looking at Blitzen. “It’s coming up on the ten year anniversary, right?”

“It is,” Blitz confirms. “Seems impossible. Time’s flown.”

“ _Speaking of anniversaries_ ,” Hearth signs, “ _isn’t yours and Alex’s soon?_ ”

Magnus blushes, and Hearthstone shares a smirk with Blitzen. “It… might be.”

“Any plans?” Blitzen presses. He’s always one for planning a celebration.

“Well… we haven’t really talked about it. We usually don’t do anything anyway, although…” He trails off and lets his hands fall to his sides.

Hearthstone frowns. “ _What?_ ” he prompts.

Magnus bites his lip and shakes his head. Blitzen places his hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “Come on, kid, it’s just us. What’s wrong?”

“Well…” Magnus fidgets, but forces himself to meet both their gazes in turn. “I guess I wish we could do something. That we could be more… official.”

Then, he laughs without humor. “Not that that’s ever going to happen.”

“ _Why not?_ ” Hearth asks.

“Cause, you know, Alex is… not interested in major declarations.”

Blitzen and Hearthstone exchange another loaded glance. “Have you talked to Alex about this? That you want… more?”

“Gods, no. That would be… too humiliating.” Magnus hangs his head. “I’m just… not good at this. I don’t want to mess up what we have now, you know? So why rock the boat?”

Hearth looks troubled, but before he can say anything, Magnus rushes on: “Besides, it’s not like me and Alex are in a hurry.”

“ _I think you should talk to Alex anyway_ ,” Hearth signs. “ _It’s better to be honest._ ”

“No, it’s fine. I mean, yes, obviously honesty is important, but… Like I said, no hurry. We’ve got nothing but time, right?”

Neither of his friends appear satisfied, but they allow him to steer the conversation to safer territory. Magnus ends up spending the rest of the day there, helping them close the store and having dinner at their place. By the time he heads home, he feels better about everything. However, on the walk back to the Hotel, the melancholy seeps back in.

He sighs. If only Alex… _No, stop that, Magnus. Things are fine as they are. And if that needs to change someday, okay. But for now, just be grateful for what you do have_.

He shoves his hands in his pockets and lowers his head, forcing his desire deep down to make room for the resignation.

— — — 

Three weeks later, autumn is in full swing. Even the trees in Magnus’ atrium in Valhalla change colors to match Boston’s foliage, and the leaves are blown in a colorful cascade across the grassy floor—and pretty much every other surface in the suite. He’s in the midst of brushing some off of his kitchen counter when the door opens and Alex strides in.

She’s clearly embracing the season—black boots with pink laces, rose jeans, a new forest green turtleneck, and a black linen scarf. She swipes some leaves onto the floor and hops up onto the counter, swinging her legs. “Sup?”

“Not much. Want some breakfast?” He neglects to mention that it’s their anniversary. It’s not important, after all.

“What’s on the menu?”

“Well, I only have stuff for toast…”

Alex rolls her eyes. “You live in a magical suite,” she says with a laugh.

“I know!” Magnus says defensively. “What, is toast for some reason unacceptable to you?”

At that moment, the toaster pops.

In answer, Alex takes a slice out and reaches for the butter. “Well, don’t complain, then,” Magnus mock-grumbles.

They eat their way steadily through several pieces of toast, and then Alex asks a question.

“So, are you busy today?”

“No, why?” Magnus frowns.

Alex shrugs. “I thought maybe we should go to Boston today. Take a walk, go shopping?”

Magnus finds himself grinning. “Are you asking me on a date, Alex?”

Alex’s cheeks pinken. “And if I am?”

“Well then, you’ve got yourself a date.”

— — — 

Midafternoon finds them in the Boston Common. Alex has donned a striped beanie to ward off the chill, and after a while, her hand finds his own.

They sit on a bench tucked away near an area more densely packed with trees. However, the bench is in a small patch of sun, so it’s warmer. Alex sits close to Magnus, pressed together from shoulder to hip.

Magnus smiles, relaxing. He watches a couple walk by, holding hands and wrapped up in each other. On one of their hands, an engagement ring glints. Deep inside, he feels a jolt of longing, which he wrests into submission and irrelevance immediately.

“This is fun,” Alex comments. She’s looking around, seemingly with perfect contentment.

“Who are you and what have you done with Alex Fierro?” Magnus asks, teasing.

Alex shrugs. “Is that so surprising?”

“You, enjoying a date with little old me?”

Her eyes glint with amusement. “I’m an enigma. And I can enjoy—”

“A romantic, sunlit walk in the park on our anniversary?”

Magnus realizes what he said an instant later, and he opens his mouth, planning to… well, probably fumble and babble, but also hopefully to backtrack.

Alex, though, blinks. “I didn’t think you remembered that.”

Any words Magnus might have said leave his mind. “You… Wait, what?”

She purses her lips. “Well, I mean… You’re you, and surely you would mention an important occasion like this. So when you didn’t, I started to think maybe you’d forgotten. Which would suck, honestly, because…”

She trails off, and Magnus is left gaping. “I didn’t say anything because I figured _you_ didn’t remember,” he finally manages to admit.

Alex affects an offended expression. “Gee, thanks. Now I feel like an awful date.”

“No, don’t,” Magnus implores. “I didn’t mean… I just know we’re pretty casual, that’s all. Which is… fine.”

He stares straight ahead, hoping something distracting will show up, so he and Alex will not have to continue this rapidly deteriorating discussion. Next to him, Alex has gone still, and for several minutes, they sit in uncomfortable silence.

“We should get married,” Alex says without warning.

Now, Magnus is the one to freeze. His mind screeches to a halt.

_What just happened?_

“Okaaay,” Alex says, drawing out the word. “Not the ideal reaction. Did I overload you?”

“I…” Magnus tries, then has to clear his throat before speaking again. “I think… I need to ask a clarifying question.”

Alex takes his hand. “Shoot.”

“Did you really mean that? You really want to… marry me?”

Alex softens, and her smile is sheepish. “Come on, Maggie, why wouldn’t I?”

Okay. _Now_ he is overloaded.

“I mean… It’s been ten years. I know you better than anyone else by now, and vice versa. And I don’t want to break up with you, so…” She swallows. “Look, I know that I define my entire existence by change, but… you are my one constant. What I have with you… It’s the single certain thing I see whenever I imagine my future, so— Shouldn’t we just make it official?”

Magnus can only stare. After a moment, Alex’s eyebrows raise. “Or not,” she says hurriedly. “I know we’ve got, you know, forever to deal with each other, so it can’t get much more committed than that. We don’t need, like, a marriage—”

“Alex,” Magnus breathes, cutting her off, “marry me.”

Alex’s mouth snaps shut, dual-colored eyes flying open. The wind catches their hair, but neither seem to notice. For Magnus, the only thing that matters in all the Nine Worlds is next to him on a park bench in downtown Boston.

Alex’s lips turn upward, expression more joyful than Magnus can remember ever seeing it. “I asked you first, you nerd. So you tell me.”

And if Magnus weren’t already dead, this would probably send him on his way. He drags Alex into his arms, and a laugh bursts out of him. “Yes, absolutely, of course!”

Alex shakes in his embrace as she starts to laugh too. “Good. And to answer _you_ , yes. Duh.”

Magnus sits back far enough to see Alex’s face again, but before he can focus on her, Alex’s lips are against his, and her arms flung around his shoulders. Magnus’ eyes fill; he can hardly believe he is lucky enough to have this, and that he’ll have this for the rest of his existence.

They kiss until the need for oxygen becomes too intense. Even then, though, they don’t go far, curling into each other on the bench. Alex tucks her head under Magnus’ chin, and Magnus wraps his arm around her shoulders.

“I bet our hallmates are going to flip their shit when they find out about this,” Magnus comments.

“Bold of you to assume I’m going to admit I’m engaged to you,” Alex retorts, but Magnus can tell from her tone of voice that she isn’t serious; her grin is practically palpable.

“Har dee har.” He gives her a squeeze.

“Samirah’s gonna be irritatingly smug, I bet.”

“Ugh, she’ll be insufferable.”

“Oh gods, and Hearth and Blitz—”

“Horrifying.”

“Maybe we should elope.”

“Mmm, yeah.”

“Vegas?”

“Oh, come on, that’s boring. Why not somewhere more exotic? We could do a destination elopement.”

“What’s more exotic than Vegas?”

“Alex,” he says with a laugh. “Please. We could at least leave America.”

“Okay, fine. Amsterdam.”

“We are not getting married in Amsterdam!”

“Why not? It’s beautiful there!”

“It’s also full of pot and bridges! I don’t really want to revisit my time homeless, and then my death, during our wedding.”

“Ah, true. Okay, what about Siberia? As a throwback to our first kiss? Hell, forget Siberia. We should just go back to Niflheim.”

“I’m rescinding both my proposal and my answer to yours.” Magnus shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.”

Alex chuckles and turns to kiss his cheek. “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

They fall into a much more comfortable silence this time, and Magnus lifts his gaze to the landscape around them. He’s struck then by how absurdly idyllic it all is—the dramatic New England fall colors, the warm spot of sun they’re sitting in, the soft breeze, the fact that _Magnus is engaged to Alex_ … 

“Just one more time,” he says, wanting to hear it again. “You sure you want to spend forever with me?”

“Keep asking, Magnus, and I might change my mind.”

Magnus grins. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“You should.” Alex fidgets, but also shifts closer. “I was going to stick with you anyway, so you know.”

And for the first time, in what Magnus realizes is years, he feels content. He knows now that no matter when Ragnarok comes, no matter how badly it’ll go, he will have Alex by his side. No matter what else, Alex is his future.

**Author's Note:**

> Have I left this story to gather dust in my drafts for a year and a half? Yes.
> 
> Am I late for posting this on Valentine's Day? Also yes.
> 
> Will I continue this pattern of starting things and taking forever to finish them? Uh, definitely.
> 
> Regardless, thanks for reading this! <3


End file.
